


You Held Me Under

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010), The Sandman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 02:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the walls were dreaming, they were torn right open. I finally see that the spell was broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Held Me Under

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butterflysteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflysteve/gifts).



> Title and summary from Florence + The Machine's "Blinding."

"I need to wake up," I told him, my tones firm and even. He was confused, didn't know what was happening. I had to show him, but he was refusing to listen. He kept thinking he was right. It was endearing when we were students and he was trying to impress my father. It wasn't endearing any longer.

I imagined taking the kitchen knife to him, to show him that all it took was a powerful enough drive to get the kick to work right. I was always better at the theoretical groundwork than he was, so I understood why he didn't understand. He was confused. I had to show him the way.

I stopped short when I saw the skinny girl in our bedroom. She was wearing a leather jacket with the arms ripped off, a mesh shirt with no bra, short denim skirt and knee high boots. Her hair was fire engine red, her eyes mismatched green and blue. "Who are you?" I asked, suspicious. This was a new tactic, and I didn't trust it at all.

"YoU beLOng to ME," she said, voice sweet and sour at once. Her hair was dripping fire on the carpet, eyes edged with smoke and ash. "I likE YOu. YoU'rE preTTy. Do you LIke doGGIes? BArnaBy's arOUnd somEwhEre. hE takEs CaRE of me. somETimes. I thiNk. WHen I caN ThinK. SOmetimEs iT HurtS to do tHaT."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I couldn't look at her for long, or it made me dizzy. I would lose my purpose then, and I had an appointment with a psychiatrist in the morning.

She reached out and touched my arm. She felt like jagged glass wrapped in velvet, and she kissed me, her lips sandpaper rough on my cheek. "YOu tastE gooD," she whispered, voice like a caress. "I'm tiReD of beING alONE. Are'NT yOu?"

"I'm not alone," I protested. "I'm going to convince my husband to come with me to the real world, to our real children. The Phillipa and James here aren't my children."

Her hair was spun gold, twisted wires shining in the light. Her smile was sharp and full of teeth, as if she could rip out my throat and eat my heart, finding it delicious. "CoME witH Me," she said softly. "There'S A worD for thE FLavoR of SpikES and SAlt and Hope OF thE ImpOSSible, anD yOU caN helP me FiNd it, I kNow. Or tHe PaTH on The OtHeR siDe oF thE MiRroR iNto ColoRphOnic EcsTaTatiON."

"What do those words even mean? Do you even know?"

"SurE. Don'T yoU?"

I tilted my head to the side and contemplated her mismatched eyes, the sunset in her hair bleeding out into steam behind her. Her jacket was denim now, the skin beneath it bare to my touch if I reached out for her. She was wearing neon yellow leggings and sandals now, and I could see that my black summer dress was blood red and dripping all over the floor like candle wax.

This was a dream, then. This wasn't the world I belonged in. This wasn't _real,_ and I had to get back to my real children in the real world.

"No," I told her with an easy smile. "But I'll go with you. You'll lead me home, won't you?"

"EveryWhErE caN bE HOme iF yOu WAnt It to be."

She made perfect sense. I linked arms with her and started to dance to the sound of her erratic laughter and my pounding heartbeat.

I was going to be going home. I couldn't wait.

The End


End file.
